Only in Tennis
by Cheeseburger of Doom
Summary: They are only friends when they play; the rest of the time they do their best to ignore each other. It takes a loss that shouldn't have happened to break them up -- and wonder why they weren't really ever together. [izumixfukawa -- from gyoukurin!]


A/N: Do these guys even have personalities? I don't know. They were in the anime for all of what, two seconds? Were they in the manga any longer than that? I don't know. At least I know their names now -- Izumi Tomoya and Fukawa Kimiyoshi from Gyokurin. (I hope I spelled that right). I'm attempting to give them personality because I think they're cute, and I think they need fic. D

Note: Izumi is the one with the spiky two-tone hair and the choker; Fukawa is the beauty with long dark hair.

Only in Tennis

It was a little humiliating being beaten by a pair who would never work together in doubles.

Momoshiro and Echizen had obviously never played doubles before that time they met on the street courts, and they would obviously never be good at doubles together -- but they had beaten Izumi and Fukawa just the same.

Izumi and Fukawa were a team. They'd been playing doubles together since they'd started playing tennis, a few years ago. The pictures of them playing tennis when they were little were quite amusing. Izumi had an entire album dedicated to it, one that Fukawa didn't know about -- because he would have teased Izumi if he'd known. He could just picture it now -- "I didn't know you cared, Izumi! How touching!" They weren't really friends, so to Fukawa, it would probably seem…weird.

It was humiliating to have been beaten by a pair like Momoshiro and Echizen, but Izumi wouldn't let it get to him; he and Fukawa were a team, had always been a team, and as far as he was concerned they would always be a team. That was the way they worked, that was the way they worked best, and he wasn't going to let a couple of amateurs prove him wrong.

"Next time, we won't be beaten!" Izumi proclaimed to his math homework. His mother yelled at him to stop shouting while the rest of the family was trying to sleep.

Their game was off.

Izumi noticed it right away; they were lacking that -- that thing that made them the team they were. Their psychic connection, or whatever it was. He wondered if Fukawa was feeling bad about their loss at the tournament. He certainly was. It had seemed amusing at the time, even while it was humiliating -- but some of the humor was wearing off, now, and Izumi was getting really pissed off --

"That was an easy shot! Why did you miss it?" Izumi demanded. "You can do better than that!"

"So can you," Fukawa replied, icily. "You're not so hot yourself, today."

"At least I can hit the ball!"

"Anywhere but the other side of the net!"

Their teammates were staring at them. Izumi and Fukawa never fought; not on the tennis court. They were a team, they'd been a team for a long time -- even if it was only in tennis.

"Why don't you try singles then?" Izumi suggested. "I'm sure you'll be great at it."

"Better than you, in any case."

For some reason, that stung. Fukawa was being quite serious -- he never really joked around. He took everything very seriously, especially himself; that was one of the reasons they weren't really friends off the court. Izumi liked to get into mischief and have fun -- Fukawa liked to study and get his homework done.

"You really think you'd be better at me than singles?" Izumi demanded. "Since when? I carry all the weight around here, anyway!"

"You?" Fukawa shook his head. "I won't even bother arguing with something that ridiculous."

"Go to hell." It was the best response Izumi could come up with, and it seemed quite effective. He tossed his racket on the ground and walked off the court, to go somewhere to cool down.

He didn't need Fukawa. After all, what was the point in being a team when they could be beaten by a pair who weren't?

Later, when Izumi had cooled off enough to actually think about it -- he wondered what on earth had gotten into him. He'd been amused by their loss; and he'd been sure that it would never happen again, because that kind of thing could only happen by fluke -- but somehow, he'd retained a seed of doubt, and so had Fukawa.

Now Izumi was going to have to apologize to him for being a hothead, even though Fukawa was just as much of a hothead -- Fukawa could be even more stubborn than he was, sometimes, for someone who was supposed to have such a clear head.

Izumi was sure he would do well at singles, but Fukawa was his partner, and had been for a long time -- it would be stupid to throw that away so suddenly, and for such a stupid reason, wouldn't it? Every pair lost, and sometimes to pairs who were worse players -- sometimes, luck was just that way. They would have to work to make sure it didn't happen again, and they couldn't do that if they went on ignoring each other's existence.

Izumi hated being rational, sometimes. He wanted to continue to seethe and hate Fukawa and blame him for everything wrong with the world -- his temper was very bad and he liked having a target, but -- it wasn't Fukawa's fault.

Izumi went in search of Fukawa the next day at lunch, and found him sitting with his circle of friends. They were all the smart ones -- the good-looking smart ones, not even the nerds. It made Izumi's head hurt to think of the good grades they got, because his were mediocre at best. Their attitudes also pissed him off -- they all thought they were better than everyone else just because they were a bit smarter and a little prettier.

"Hey, Fukawa, can I talk to you?"

One of Fukawa's friends -- one who despised Izumi as much as Izumi despised him -- laughed loudly and obnoxiously. "What makes you think that Fukawa wants to talk to you?"

"Shut up, and leave this to us," Izumi said. "This isn't your business."

Fukawa was just as self-centered as the rest of them, but Izumi usually forgot that; Fukawa's ego was just something that went along with Fukawa, and it never really got in the way on the court, because then the ego he wore was the same as Izumi's -- they both knew they were good, and they reveled in it.

However, sometimes when he encountered Fukawa outside of tennis -- he felt like killing him. This was one of those times, because the look that Fukawa was giving him was revolting. That sneer ruined his face -- wait, since when did Izumi care what Fukawa's face looked like?

"Look, do you want to go to the street courts tonight?" Izumi asked. "We can work this thing out. We always have." Izumi hated saying things like that -- he was supposed to be a tough guy, and it sounded too emotional, or something. It was even worse talking like that in front of Fukawa's crowd. Still, what choice did he have?

"What's to work out?" Fukawa asked.

Izumi took a deep breath. He wasn't upset, he wasn't -- this was just fine. If Fukawa didn't want to be a team, then whatever. He didn't care, really he didn't --

"Fine then, asshole. Have it your way." As Izumi stormed off, he heard one of Fukawa's friends (a girl, this time) comment -- "He's just like a jealous girlfriend."

"Yeah, he can be pretty annoying at times."

Well, fine, if that was how Fukawa was going to talk about him in front of his friends -- then Izumi really didn't need him.

Izumi didn't really have any close friends, mostly because of his tough guy image. He tried to be cool, and most times he succeeded; but the way he acted put most people off him. He was fine as an acquaintance, but he wasn't someone that anyone wanted to have over for dinner.

That was just fine; that was the way Izumi wanted it. He always found something to do with his evenings -- usually he went down to the street courts with Fukawa and kicked some ass.

Why Fukawa always went with him, he had no idea. He was sure that Fukawa must have better things to do, since he had such an active social circle -- didn't they go out and do stuff together? Whatever that stuff was.

Not that it mattered anymore, since Fukawa wouldn't be going with him anymore. Izumi didn't feel like going on his own, either; he wouldn't have anyone to play with, and the court was for doubles only. Someone might be willing to team up with him temporarily, but that wouldn't be the same.

Izumi tried to convince himself that he wasn't missing Fukawa -- but he knew that he was. He would never find a partner that he worked as well with, and it was frustrating him. Why had a single stupid argument ruined them? Why had a single stupid loss that they'd been laughing at cause them to have that argument?

And why was Izumi worrying about it so much?

It came to him in the middle of the night -- Fukawa was the only friend he had, really. It was only on the tennis courts, but it was friendship. They cheered their team on together, and they won their games together-- and sometimes they lost together -- but always together.

Without his partner on the doubles court, what was the point of playing tennis? If he didn't play tennis, then what was the point in anything? It was the only thing he found fun anymore.

Fukawa was a prick, for sure -- but not while they were on the tennis court. There, he was cocky, and knew he was good -- but that was okay, really, because he was. On the tennis court, he could be amused by a loss to a pair that didn't know crap all about doubles, and he could even invite them to play against them again sometime with a smile on his face.

That was the Fukawa that Izumi was missing.

Izumi wondered what Fukawa thought of him; if he thought that Izumi was the same cold bastard on and off court. That wouldn't be true, though; Izumi was someone else entirely when he was with Fukawa. They were partners, after all, and they complemented each other.

Maybe they should have tried to be friends off the court, as well. Maybe then Izumi would know which Fukawa was the real one -- maybe then Fukawa wouldn't treat Izumi like dirt beneath his feet.

Whatever, it didn't matter now. Fukawa wasn't likely to change his mind.

Izumi was beginning to seriously consider quitting the tennis team. It wasn't fun anymore, not while he had to ignore Fukawa constantly, and pretend that he had forgotten his presence.

Fukawa really was better at singles than he was. It pissed him off; he'd hoped that he would be better, and Fukawa would realize that he needed him.

Apparently, though, Fukawa only needed the pricks that he spent most of his time with; the people who had never liked Izumi because of the way he dressed or did his hair -- or something. Izumi didn't even know what it was. He didn't care.

The sad thing was that Izumi needed Fukawa -- and he would never, ever admit it, not as long as Fukawa detested him; looked at him with those mocking eyes.

It was all so stupid. Just one loss had ripped them apart -- then again, maybe it had started before that loss. Maybe this would have happened anyway, eventually; after all, off the tennis courts, they didn't like each other -- and that was really no way for a doubles pair to behave, was it?

Izumi hauled out his album, and looked at the pictures of himself and Fukawa playing doubles. The pictures dated from their first game all the way to now; a few years' worth. It fit into one album because there was one picture from each game -- the best picture he could get his hands on.

He had been fully prepared to burn it, but after looking at it -- he couldn't bear to. He loved this album, and always had; it was one of those things that he liked in his life, and he didn't really want to let it go.

Still, there wasn't much of a reason to hold onto it, if it was never going to be finished. There would never be any more albums like it; he would probably never get to speak another word to Fukawa again without being sneered at and laughed at by someone random that he couldn't stand, dressed in their fancy clothes.

He slammed the album shut, and tossed it on the floor. What was the point in doing anything, if he couldn't even have the one friend he'd come to count on? Izumi Tomoya didn't need anyone, and he prided himself on it -- only, there was one person that he did need, and that was the person who seemed to despise him the most.

"Hey, Fukawa." Izumi grabbed Fukawa's shoulder in case he felt like walking away instead of answering. "Take this."

Fukawa blinked at the picture that Izumi shoved into his hand. "What the hell is it?"

"A picture," Izumi replied. "Can't you tell?"

"Why are you giving me a picture?" That sneer was on his face again; it really did ruin his looks. Why did Izumi care? Because he did, that was all.

"I know it's a picture, but why are you giving it to me?"

"I'm trying to get rid of them. Burn it if you want to. I couldn't." Izumi walked away, and didn't bother to look back; he didn't want to see Fukawa tear the picture in two, or drop it on the ground, or whatever he was going to do to it. At least now that his favorite picture was gone, getting rid of the rest would be easier.

He would miss that picture, though; the picture of the first game they had played together. They both had such happy smiles on their faces -- that was before they'd become so bitchy to one another. That was before bad attitudes had been developed, and before Fukawa had decided he was too good for Izumi.

Izumi had been eating lunch by himself for several years. He usually went up to the roof, and ate there; nobody ever bothered him. No one else ever went up there; they were all too busy being happy with each other.

Izumi was surprised to hear footsteps; surprised and angry. He was going to have to leave and find somewhere else to be in peace, now --

"Izumi."

Izumi's mood became even fouler. What did Fukawa want, now? To throw the pieces of that picture in his face and laugh about it? Izumi didn't really want to hear it.

Fukawa held out the picture -- fully intact, without so much as a wrinkle. "Here."

"What?"

"I'm giving it back to you," Fukawa said. "You've had this a long time."

"I told you, I don't want it anymore."

"Is that true?" Fukawa asked. There was something strange about his voice, his expression; Izumi didn't get it.

"Yeah. Why would I need that anymore? I don't even know why I kept it in the first place. It was pretty stupid and sentimental, and that's just not like me, is it?"

"You never told me you kept all these pictures."

"I'm glad I didn't. You probably would have laughed about it with your friends, and called me a fairy, and had a very good time." Izumi's temper had gotten worse of late, and right now, he could hardly stand it.

"I wouldn't --"

"You did the other day, so don't bother to deny it."

Fukawa really couldn't say anything to that, and Izumi felt triumphant, if somewhat sick to his stomach. He wanted to get out of there fast, even if it meant jumping off the roof because Fukawa was blocking the door to the stairs.

"Why did you keep the pictures, Izumi?"

"Because we were a team," Izumi said. "Because I thought we'd be a team for at least a little longer. I didn't really think it would end up as stupid as this, but I guess I didn't count on real life, did I?"

"Do you hate me?"

The question caught Izumi off guard. Did he hate Fukawa? What kind of a question was that? Fukawa was the one who hated Izumi.

"I should hate you," Izumi said. "You treat me like dirt outside of tennis, just because your friends don't like me. I don't like them much either."

"You don't treat me all that well outside of tennis, either," Fukawa said. "You always look like you're disgusted with me."

"Well, I am. Your attitude stinks, especially when you're with your friends."

"Your attitude isn't much better, and they're not even my friends!" Fukawa's temper was just as bad as Izumi's -- even knowing that, Izumi was startled by the fierceness of that statement.

"What?"

"I always thought of you as my best friend."

"Then why do you hang out with those guys?"

"Because I thought you didn't want to be around me during school hours. I thought you considered me bad for your image, or something."

"What the hell? That's what I thought that you thought about me --" Izumi suddenly couldn't resist the urge to start laughing. "This really is a stupid situation, isn't it?"

"The stupidest," Fukawa agreed. He was grinning.

"I don't want you to start thinking I'm soft, or anything, but -- does this mean that we're friends, now?"

"I hope so," Fukawa said.

"This time, we'll do it right."

Fukawa's crowd didn't react very well when he stopped hanging around with them and started spending most of his time with Izumi -- which was just fine with Izumi. Let them rot! Fukawa was his, not theirs.

In fact, his possessiveness was beginning to worry him. It seemed a bit much for someone who was just a friend -- but that was something that he didn't want to admit to himself just yet. There were enough problems to overcome right now -- like curing Fukawa of his bitchy attitude (and maybe learning to be a little less of an icicle, himself).

"Izumi, can I see those pictures?" Fukawa asked. It was the first time he had ever been to Izumi's, and they hadn't killed each other so far, which was a good sign.

Izumi was going to refuse; after all, it was still rather embarrassing. He found that he couldn't refuse though -- after all, Fukawa was in all of them, so he had some rights to them.

Izumi pulled out the album and gave it to him -- and Fukawa said, "You even have it in an album? I didn't know you cared so much, Izumi."

Izumi wanted to be angry, but he started laughing instead. Then he hit Fukawa with a pillow. The bastard deserved it for teasing him. Fukawa started laughing, too -- and Izumi realized he was happy.

It was about damn time, too.

TBC (maybe)


End file.
